Schnapps & Small Talk
by Joseph Haney
Summary: Set immediately after 'Time & Tide'. Angie takes Peggy back to her apartment for a nightcap and some story swapping.


"So," Angie Martinelli said as she pulled the bottle of schnapps from the cabinet above her refrigerator. "Tell me about this guy. The one at work, the one who…" she trailed off as she turned, as though she was unsure whether or not to finish the sentence.

"The one who died," Peggy Carter said from her seat at the table. "There's no need to skirt around that fact. It's not going to make it any easier to deal with." She held out one of the glasses Angie had pulled out a second earlier.

Angie nodded as she opened the bottle and took one of the glasses. "What was his name?" she asked, filling the glass halfway and handing it back to Peggy, taking the other glass.

"Ray. Ray Krzeminski." Peggy hesitated a moment before sipping the schnapps. "He…he wasn't a very nice man. A real brute at times…most times…but…even at his worst, I never wished this on him."

By this point, Angie had joined Peggy at the table, her own glass half full with schnapps. "How did he die?"

Peggy took another sip to buy her time to think of a cover story. "A…heart attack. Sudden and massive…fatal."

"Wow…well, when it's your time, it's your time."

Peggy nodded. "Indeed."

"Did he have any family?"

"A wife…and a girlfriend. No children that I'm aware of. I think I remember him mentioning a brother once…but that was it."

"Well at least he had someone to miss him. My cousin, Ralphy, the one who got hit by a bus, he didn't have no one but his mother to come to the funeral. It was a damn shame."

Peggy nodded, taking another sip of the schnapps.

"This isn't really helping, is it?" Angie asked, her apology clear in her tone.

"No, the schnapps is helping a great deal," Peggy said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Angie chuckled a little, shaking her head. "I meant the conversation, English."

"Oh…no, that's not helping much." Peggy let out a sigh and downed what was left of her drink.

"Well…I can't make you feel better by telling you about my day," Angie said as she refilled Peggy's glass. "The same old jerks as always can't really compare to that."

"I don't know," Peggy said. "A story or two of the same old jerks certainly couldn't hurt."

"Alright," Angie said with a small smile. "Well…okay, here's one. So this guy comes in, sits at the counter and orders a coffee. Well dressed, not bad looking, as they always are. Anyway, after he's finished with his sandwich, I'm filling his cup and he starts looking me over."

"As they always do," Peggy said with a smirk.

Angie chuckled a little before continuing. "So he's looking me over, and I'm doing my best to not make eye contact with him because I'm ten minutes away from my lunch break and I don't need that hassle, but sure enough he manages to force it and gives me a grin and starts chatting me up. So I give him a smile and try to talk my way out of it, but he starts trying to grab my hand to keep me there."

"Typical," Peggy said, shaking her head. "How did you get out of it?"

"I spilled a little hot coffee on his hand and pled ignorance," Angie said with a shrug. "I don't think he bought it, though, 'cause he stiffed me on the tip."

Peggy shook her head. "Sounds like you had a rough day on your own. Tell me you at least made more than fifty cents."

"Buck twenty-five," Angie said with a sigh. "Better, but not by much."

"Well, hopefully tomorrow will be better for you."

"I wouldn't hold your breath," Angie said, downing the last of her schnapps and reaching for the bottle again. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting depressed. Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"Like England. Tell me about it."

"Mostly, it looks like a big pile of rubbish after the blitz."

"No," Angie said, shaking her head. "For real. Tell me about where you're from."

Peggy sighed. "Alright. Well, I was born in London. My mother was a secretary at a company that doesn't exist anymore and my father was an inspector at Scotland Yard."

"A policeman?"

"Yes, essentially. At least he was until the war…the first one. He was drafted and…killed in France in 1916."

"Jesus, English. That's rough."

"It was. My mother took it hard..." she trailed off, not sure why she'd said any of that. She never talked about her past. She'd never even told Steve about it…although she supposed she would have eventually. She downed the rest of her glass to dull the wave of emotion that thought brought on.

"My dad died when I was a kid, too," Angie said. "Some sort of accident in the factory where he worked. Left my mom alone with six kids and no way to feed us. My brothers stepped up to help, and my sister and I did what we could. It wasn't easy, but we made it work."

"Well, you have to. You have to if you want to survive. We learned that after my father passed."

Angie nodded. "So we got that in common, don't we English?" she said with a small smile as she finished her drink and went to pour another.

"I guess so," Peggy said, holding out her glass for a refill.

"I take it you don't like talking about the past much," Angie said.

"Never saw the sense in dwelling on it."

"We don't have to dwell. Just stop in for a visit. What brought you to America?"

"Looking for work. There were more options here in America than back home."

Angie nodded. "Makes sense, bigger country and all. Not that England ain't a great country. Some of the greatest motion picture stars came from over there. Erroll Flynn for instance."

"He's Australian, actually. Now, Cary Grant, he's English."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, he's good too."

"You have some pretty decent actors here, too," Peggy said finishing her drink and picking up the bottle for another. "Humphrey Bogart, James Stewart, John Wayne."

"Oh I once dated a guy who was obsessed with John Wayne. Like he'd go to see all of his movies, read every article about him…I once joked that he should just date John Wayne, but he didn't like that very much. Broke up with me the next day."

"Over a joke? Sounds like a real winner."

"Doesn't he though?" Angie said with a small smile. "What about you, English? You ever date any catches like that?"

Peggy shook her head. "No…no I can't say that I have."

"Oh come on. Everyone's got one story like that."

"I don't."

"Alright…did you have anyone good?"

Peggy's smile faltered. "Um…well…yes, actually. His name was Steve and we…we met before the war, but he went off to fight and…he never came home."

"Oh…wow, I just keep hitting the wrong buttons here, don't I?" Angie asked with a frown.

"No…I mean, yes, but it's good to have someone listen." Peggy gave her a small smile. "And the small talk in between the button hitting was a welcome distraction."

Angie brightened. "Well, maybe we can do it again sometime," she said, lifting her glass.

Peggy picked hers up and lightly tapped it against Angie's. "I was thinking we could do a little more right now," she said, smiling a little wider. "I mean, there's still about a fourth of the bottle left. What do you say?"

Angie grinned, picked up the bottle and started refilling their glasses.


End file.
